


Slap Dat Bass!

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, M/M, actor!Pete, and petes just a love machine, backstage flirting, band geek!Mikey, mikeys a cutie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6440953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The star of the play and the bassist of the 'orchestra'. Smiles and flirtatious winks versus glasses and a long sleeved cardigan. Despite fame and rusty flirting skills, Pete and Mikey meet and mingle backstage of the biggest play of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slap Dat Bass!

Tonight was a big night. It was the opening night of a play at the local theatre written by a local man. Score by a local woman. Local boy, Pete Wentz, was the star of the play. It was the biggest production this theatre had ever held. This was Pete's big break, he was sure of it. Scouts and agents in the crowd, TV reporters capturing the buzz. Everyone in town that was lucky enough to get tickets was coming to opening night.

Pete was standing in front of a mirror backstage, his makeup and hair already done. Brushing black, straightened hair out of his face, he picked up his phone and clicked the power button for the time. It was twenty minutes until curtain call, and he still had to say 'hi' to everyone! He took a breath and shook out his nerves, eyes locked on his own reflection.

"You can do this, Pete, you got this," he told himself, straightening the jacket of his costume. "You're gonna go on and do a good job. Make your mom proud." He took another breath, closing his eyes. "You can do this."

He brushed wrinkles off his pants and turned and walked away. He knew a lot of people got really anxious about these things, so he always went around and wished everyone good luck. From wardrobe to the sweating director, he told them, "Break a leg!"

Pete always had a smile to share, and sometimes didn't know when to stop. Speeding by, he wished the stagehands and set director luck. He then waved at the makeup artists, shouting a greeting over the nervous chatter. Heading back to find his script and review it again, he grinned at everyone he passed. He slowed his pace when something caught his eye.

There was a person standing where the velvet red curtain ended, nervously peeking through to the crowd.

His name was Mikey, and he was muttering curses to his brother.

Pete kept the grin on his face, and decided to help this kid calm down.

"Hey, man," Pete said.

The voice so close to him made Mikey jump. He shakily glanced behind him. "Uh, hi."

"You alright?" Pete asked. He leant over to where Mikey still held the curtain open. "What're you looking for?"

"Oh." Mikey immediately dropped the curtain. "Just, uh, just my family. They should be here by now, and my stupid brother said he wouldn't wear a stupid hat."

Pete had nodded in understanding, but now was furrowing his eyebrows.

"Uh, he kind of has bright red hair," Mikey said. He hid behind his glasses, his voice shy and gestures timid. "He should stick out like a sore thumb." 

Pete nodded. "Well, they probably just stopped to get you flowers or are picking up a program." He patted Mikey's arm gently. "I'm sure they wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Thanks," Mikey said, a smile starting to make its way to the surface.

Pete smiled without showing his teeth. He decided he liked this boy.

Flirt mode: On.

"Well, I haven't seen you around," Pete said, leaning on the wall next to him, his voice noticeably dripping with charm. "What role are you playing?"

"Oh, uh..." Mikey pushed his glasses up on his nose, taken by the suggestion he might be of the handsome guild of performers. "I'm not an actor," he said with a slight chuckle. "I'm from the, uh, school up the road." He gestured with his left hand. "I'm part of the 'orchestra' they rounded up."

"Well, you certainly had me fooled," Pete said. "But that's great. I love listening to your rehearsals. What do you play?"

"Uh, upright bass." Mikey motioned like he was playing, then tugged his cardigan sleeves down.

"Oh, nice!" Pete said, smiling. "That looks like a really fun instrument, with all the slapping and stuff. It's dead sexy, too."

Mikey tried to keep his cool and decided to answer to the former of things Pete mentioned. "Yeah, I, uh, I don't usually do a lot of the, um... slapping. Not in this, uh-uh, piece, anyway." He pushed his glasses up on his nose even though he didn't need to, keeping his gaze down and away. This boy was almost too pretty to look directly at. His smile was practically like staring at the Sun.

And there it was again. _Why is he so happy?_ Mikey wondered.

"That's too bad," Pete said. "Maybe I'll get to hear you do some of that slapping one day." Pete played air-standup bass, making deep noises and popping sounds.

Mikey laughed, then thought, _A cute boy is flirting with me, why am I being such a wuss?_ Then, as an afterthought, _Is it just a given that all boys involved in theatre are gay? Either that or I finally have good luck._

Mikey made solid eye contact with the other boy for once, and forced nervous stomach fizzling to go away. He wasn't going to get nothing but late night 'what if's out of this.

"Well, you're quite a handsome sight yourself," he said, "I take it you're in the production?"

Pete's eyes crinkled on the sides as he nodded. "Yeah, I am."

"You look like you'd be an actor," Mikey said, generating his flirts slowly (he hadn't really done this before). "You're attractive enough to be one."

Pete thanked him, glad to be getting a banter of flirting going, even if Mikey wasn't the best at it.

"So, what role are you playing?" Mikey asked, finally getting his flirting tone closer to right.

"Jinjer," he answered. Pete felt a tinge of pride and happiness. He was ecstatic to be the lead in this play, even if his character had a funny name.

"Okay," Mikey said. His ears did a double take, throwing off his confidence. "Wait. Jinjer? You're the star?"

Pete shrugged. "I wouldn't say _star_..."

"Oh my God!" Mikey covered his mouth with his hands. He thought a supporting cast member was flirting with him, not the most respected teen actor in the state!

One of the directors was running around, yelling, "Five until curtain call! Get your shit together! Five until curtain call!"

"Oh my God!" Mikey said, louder this time, fear behind his voice.

"I absolutely loved talking to you," Pete said, "but I gotta go get ready." He gestured away. "What was your name again?"

"Mikey Way," he said.

Pete repeated the name, grinning, earning a blush. "It was great meeting you. I'm-"

"Peter Wentz," Mikey said, hand still covering his mouth slightly. "I know."

Pete's smile crinkled to his eyes. "Call me Pete." He patted Mikey's arm. "Now go and slap dat bass!"

Mikey laughed, then watched Pete walk away, beatboxing air-bass.

His smile soon faded, and he turned back to the curtain to search one last time for his family. But the conductor pulled him away as he touched the curtain, shouting to get in place. Mikey hummed nervously and shook out his hands as he trotted down the stairs with the rest of the crowd. In a last attempt to find his brother's siren red hair, he stood on his tiptoes and looked from the orchestral pit before he sat down. Nothing.

He quickly checked that his instrument was tuned, as it had been sitting there since rehearsal. Then the lights dimmed and the crowd's chatter hushed.

It took a few moments for the curtains to open, and when they did, out walked Pete--or, Jinjer, rather. As Mikey watched from his poor view, he didn't see the boy he flirted with, he saw the character he was cast to be. The way he walked, the way his body moved, even the slightest change in his smile. That was Jinjer up there, not Pete.

There was no bass needed until midway through the second scene, and this was only the opening monologue. The violins only came in for emphasis at the end. Mikey scooted forwards on his chair, ready to see Pete's performance.

Jinjer glanced all around the room, taking it in and owning it. He glanced across the orchestral section and his gaze landed on the shy boy with glasses. Pete winked at him slyly, then began to speak.

Instantly, Mikey's nervous gut shut up, and he knew he would be good. No, he would be amazing. He didn't need his stupid brother's stupid hair to be awesome. He had a cute actor, the star of the play, supporting him. He could do anything then, but he knew what he would be best at.

Slappin' the bass.

Meanwhile, Jinjer was onstage, Mikey still watching intently. He cracked the little joke in the monologue, and the crowd hummed with 'ha's. He had already captured everyone, and then the violins sang. Other actors and characters came onstage and began to interact. And it went as it always did. It flashed right before Pete's eyes. He loved and cherished every second, but every second went too fast. Before he knew it, it was the climax, second to last scene, the big romance scene, between two characters his had set up, the one minute Jinjer stepped off spotlight.

He took a breather, took it in, then it was his turn to speak again. And then he blinked, and it was the end, when the whole cast is bowing. He stepped up and people threw flowers at him. He shot Mikey a thumbs-up.

Mikey stopped his vigorous clapping for a moment to return the gesture. Pete wasn't sure if it was mouthed or yelled, but understood what was trying to be conveyed by the bassist: "You did great!"

"You, too," Pete whispered.

Then he returned to his cast and the curtain closed.

Mikey ran as fast as he could up the small set of stairs, forgetting his bass and family. He bolted backstage and searched for that bright smile. He found it being patted on the back and congratulated by everyone that passed.

He tackled the actor in a hug, thanking him.

Pete laughed, keeping his hands on the thinner boy's sides as they pulled away. "What'd I do?"

"You helped me," Mikey said, hands on Pete's shoulders. "You really did. I don't think I would've been able to do this if it weren't for you."

Pete smiled and shook his head incredulously. "All I did was wink at you."

"You believed in me!" And as an after thought, "And you flirted with me...! Which doesn't really happen a lot! Wow, this makes me sound bad..."

"No, no, it's cute." Pete tilted his head at the boy in front of him. "I'd flirt with you every day if I had the chance."

Mikey felt a different type of butterfly in his stomach, like Pete was going to ask for his phone number. Or kiss him! That'd be something.

They stepped out of their embrace, but Pete kept Mikey's hand. He smiled and took a breath. Butterflies were moshing.

A voice shot over the crowd's noise as a soft hand touched Mikey's shoulder. They immediately dropped their hands.

It was Mikey mother, and as he turned, he saw his father and brother, too.

"Mikey, honey, you were so good!" his mom said to him as she hugged him.

"You did great." His father patted him on the shoulder, his smile proud.

"Ooh, I didn't know you were rubbin' elbows with the star!" Mikey's older brother, Gerard, said, pushing his mother out of the way. He introduced himself like he was worth more than he was.

"Ah," Pete said, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you." Pete had heard of Gerard Way before. He wanted to be an actor. Pete had pinned him under 'Aspiring, but not willing'.

Pete politely shook hands with Mikey's parents and made small talk, answering the same questions he got from everyone.

Mikey's mom sighed happily and with finality, glancing at her youngest with pride. "Michael, are you ready to go?" she asked. "Your bass is already packed up; we know how you always like to leave the crowds early."

Mikey glanced at Pete with sadness and regret for having social anxiety prior to their meeting. If he said he wanted to stay, maybe wait out the traffic, he would never hear the end of it from Gerard, and needless to say concern his mother. And Gerard would try to get into the theatre business through flirting with Pete until they left. Ick.

Pete just winked at Mikey with the eye he wasn't facing anyone with and stroked his arm. He nodded. "That's okay, you guys have a good night. Drive safe!"

"Thank you," Mikey's parents said.

Gerard winked sloppily and turned to leave.

Mikey looked at Pete one more time and they hugged quickly.

"Call me, okay?" Pete whispered.

"What?" Mikey asked, and he was being pulled away by the crowd of people. "I don't have your number!"

"That's what you think!" Pete winked and that was the last Mikey saw before the crowd enveloped him.

He was handed his gigantic instrument in its bigger case and carried it by himself to the car. His dad helped him stuff it in the hatchback and close it.

"Well, that was a very lovely production," his mom said as they all buckled their seat belts.

Mikey just nodded and the other men grunted in agreement.

"That was a nice young man," Mikey's dad commented and he put the car into gear and waited to pull out.

"Who, Pete?" Mikey asked.

"Yeah, he was alright," he said. "Not a jerk like most actors, huh?"

"Yeah," Mikey agreed absentmindedly, looking out his window, pretending he was in a movie. Pretending Pete was out there, sighing at a window, too. He rested his elbow on the armrest on the door and his chin on his fist, watching the parked cars slug as they drove.

"You alright, honey?" his mother asked.

"Yeah, just tired," he lied. They hit a speed bump and his hand slipped, knocking his glasses sideways. " _Crap_."

"You okay?" she asked, interrupting her own tangent about going to bed early. "What happened?"

Mikey pulled off his glasses and squinted at them. "Yeah, just smudged my glasses when we hit that bump." He got a sympathetic 'aw' as he reached into his cardigan pocket. He pulled out the first thing he felt, but what he found in his hand wasn't lens cleaner. It was a card he couldn't read.

Mikey put his glasses back on and read the barely blurred card. It was Pete's agent's contact information, with green accents on the corners. _What a jerk_ , Mikey thought, before he flipped it over. On it was a gloriously scribbled phone number, addressed to him, signed with a winky face.

Mikey's heart lifted hopefully. How did he not notice Pete slip this in his pocket? How long had it been there? Mikey shook his head and stuffed the card back in his pocket; he knew better than to leave it lying around where Gerard could snatch it up.

Before he did anything else, he cleaned his glasses. Then he pulled out his phone and the card and typed the number into his contacts. He bit the inside of his lip, staring at the empty space for a contact name. He typed 'petey' into the space. Maybe he could call him by that nickname one day! Then he rethought it. He erased it and put it in all caps. 'PETEY'. There. That way, he would never miss it.

He couldn't help but grin as he stared at the not yet started conversation. He had Peter Freaking Wentz's phone number! This was possibly the biggest day of his life.

His first time performing in front of a sold out audience, first time really attempting to flirt, first time actually scoring a cute boy's phone number. First time he was going to have a boyfriend, too, and go on actual dates.

Tonight had been a big night. And Mikey couldn't stop smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading!! i might have a 'sequel' to this, about the stage director and a stagehand, but idk the ship yet. big, big maybe. but thanks again!! i'll have more stuff posted soon (^_–) – ~~**


End file.
